Caramel
by catherine neil
Summary: Just a short, angsty P/J fic


Caramel  
  
disclaimer: I don't own Dawson's Creek and I don't own Blur. Fairly obviously.   
  
author's note: the lyrics used in this story are from 'Caramel' by Blur p  
  
  
  
  
I've gotta get over  
  
I've gotta get over  
  
I've gotta get better  
  
l love you forever…  
  
  
It was two days before Christmas. That was one of the things that really made him angry, actually.   
Dumping him was one thing, but two days before Christmas? That was just mean. That was just cold   
hearted. That was screwing him over completely. It just wasn't funny.   
  
It was two days before Christmas. Pacey sat in his father's car, parked in front of a garage in town. He   
didn't know what he was doing. He had no reason to be there. But he didn't feel like he had a reason to   
be anywhere at the moment, so here seemed as good a place as any to sit and be angry and hurt and   
miserable. And cold. Jesus, it was cold. He was shivering, his breath coming out in puffs of steam. He   
idly considered putting the engine on and letting the heater warm him up, at least until he could feel his   
fingers and toes again. But he didn't really care enough to do it. I may as well be cold, he thought   
bitterly. Who cares? What difference does it make if I'm warm or cold, I'm still going to be miserable.   
And this way I stand an outside chance of catching hypothermia and dying, which can only be a good   
thing.   
  
He stared through the drizzle into the black evening. Only 5 o' clock and pitch black already. The   
Capeside Christmas lights beamed and sparkled at him, insulting his quiet, controlled misery. Last-  
minute Christmas shoppers dashed between the shops, hiding from the rain beneath coats and   
umbrellas, desperately trying to find that perfect present before the shops closed. From somewhere, he   
could hear Christmas carols played through a tinny stereo. That bloody John Lennon song was playing   
inside the garage and he was subjected to a burst of it every time someone came out or went in. He   
didn't care.   
  
A voice inside him mumbled vaguely that he should go home, fight with his sisters, wrap his presents,   
forget about her. He didn't listen.   
  
where is the magic?  
  
I've gotta get better  
  
oh lord give me magic  
  
I love you forever…  
  
  
It had snowed yesterday and all last night. The world had been beautiful this morning, as he'd made his   
way to Joey's house. Crisp, white snow. Cold and beautiful. The carols had filled him with joy, the   
lights had made him smile. Everyone was happy. Life had been a fairytale this morning. Perfect. And   
then Wham, Bam, "I think we should just be friends," and it was all over. Six months. Six months his   
fairytale had lasted. One glorious summer, one happy school term and that was it. Back to reality. Back   
to loneliness. Back to Pacey The Loser.   
  
"I can't keep doing this, Pacey. I can't stay with you, its hurting everyone too much. I can't lose my   
friendship with Dawson. I love him Pacey, and I can't keep hurting him like this. I need him, he's my   
best friend. I'm sorry, I know I've led you on but….I just can't. I wish I didn't have to choose but I do.   
And I've gotta choose Dawson. I've gotta be sensible. I mean, we were never going to last but me and   
Dawson…you know how it is."  
  
Pacey smiled sardonically. Dawson. Everything always came back to him. They all revolved around   
Dawson like he was the frigging sun. The golden child. Giving out light and heat. Or something.  
Pacey watched the snow turn to sludge in the steady drizzle. He would have preferred a complete   
downpour. It would have been more fitting for his mood. He could have pretended he was in a film. He   
could have made his misery into something grand, dramatic, torrential. But no. It drizzled on. He   
wasn't even allowed to be miserable in style. At this point the cameras would no doubt cut to Dawson   
and Joey sitting around a blazing fire, roasting chestnuts. Why dwell on pitiful Pacey in the pitiful   
drizzle who would always come a pitiful second to Dawson?   
  
*****  
  
Joey and Dawson sat around a blazing fire. Dawson paused roasting the chestnuts to look at Joey. The   
firelight sent strange, flickering shadows across her face. She was gazing into the fire looking distant   
and sad. And beautiful.   
  
"What's wrong?" He asked.   
  
" I was just thinking about Pacey.." Joey said.  
  
"Oh." Dawson barely concealed his jealousy.  
  
" I hope he's alright. He left in such a hurry, I didn't really get time to say everything I wanted to.   
Maybe I should call him."  
  
"He'll be fine, Jo. You know him. Just let him sulk for a while, lick his wounds."  
  
Joey didn't respond. She had made up her mind this morning. She was going to call it off with Pacey.   
Definitely. But as the evening drew on, she was becoming less and less sure of her reasons. Why had   
she done it again? Dawson… it was something to do with Dawson. Something to do with security.   
Safety.   
  
Fear. That's what it was. She was scared of breaking away from Dawson. Joey and Dawson. They were   
meant to be together. Right? That's what had made it so hard to choose Pacey all those months ago.   
How could she risk losing Dawson? He was her safety net. Her soulmate. She loved him. Of course she   
did. Okay, maybe he was a little boring sometimes, a little too safe…. But he was still Dawson. And   
she had precious little security in her life, it was a terrifying thought to give up safe, secure Dawson.   
She couldn't risk losing someone else she loved. Especially not for impulsive, unstable, funny, sweet,   
passionate, beautiful Pacey. Oh why couldn't she just have them both? Pacey her boyfriend and   
Dawson her friend.   
  
Because Dawson couldn't stand it like that. It wasn't that he wanted to be her boyfriend exactly… it   
was just that she was his. Joey and another guy was difficult to deal with but Joey and Pacey? It was   
unthinkable. He couldn't be friends with her if she was with Pacey, so he made her choose.   
  
And this morning she had chosen Dawson. She had chosen safe, secure, banality. She had made the   
sensible choice. The right choice. Her mother would have approved. Pacey was wonderful but Dawson   
was…well. He was Dawson, wasn't he? Her relationship with Pacey was exciting and passionate and   
huge, but her relationship with Dawson was….safe. Small and safe. And she needed safety. She had   
definitely made the right choice.   
  
So why did it feel so wrong?   
  
She forced a smile at Dawson. "I'm sure you're right. But I'd really like to phone him, just to make   
sure."   
  
Dawson looked irritated. "Well, fine then. Phone him. Use my phone."   
  
"Thanks Dawson."   
  
Joey went up the stairs to Dawson's room and sat down on his bed. She dialled the Witter household.   
Doug answered. Joey figured he was staying at home for Christmas.   
  
"Hey Doug, its Joey… Is Pacey around?" Joey could hear fighting in the background.   
  
"What? No, I thought he was with you. I haven't seen him since he left for yours this morning."   
  
Joey's heart sank. "Oh..I see…Okay."   
  
"Is something wrong?"   
  
"No, I er, no, its fine."   
  
"Okay, well if you do see him, tell him to get his ass back home, he's supposed to be here for a family   
meal."   
  
"Right, sure. Okay, thanks Doug. Bye."   
  
Joey hung up, and gazed out of Dawson's window. It was freezing outside. She hoped he was alright.  
She went back downstairs.   
  
" That was quick," Dawson remarked.   
  
"He wasn't there."   
  
Dawson ignored the concern in Joey's voice. "Oh well." He said. "He'll be off sulking somewhere.   
You know how childish he can be."   
  
Joey stared at Dawson. He was absorbed in a film he'd just put on. It's A Wonderful Life. Predictably   
enough. He didn't notice Joey staring at him, wondering what she'd done.   
  
Dawson and Joey. Forever and ever and ever.   
  
He finally looked at her. "You okay?"   
  
She nodded. "Fine. I'm fine."   
  
"Don't you just love this film? It's such a classic."   
  
She forced a smile. "Right."   
  
Her gaze shifted to the window again. Still raining. Nearly all the snow had disappeared. She felt   
slightly sick.   
  
*****  
  
  
  
I've gotta find genius  
  
I've gotta get better  
  
I've gotta stop smoking  
  
I've gotta get better  
  
(caramel..)  
  
Hours passed. The shops closed, the shoppers went home to their familes and their Christmas trees, and   
it drizzled endlessly on. Pacey felt slightly sick. He ached. He was numb from cold but he still ached.   
He didn't know what else he could do to stop himself feeling , from hurting. He could slit his wrists, he   
supposed. Though that was a little dramatic. And a little self-indulgent. People would get hurt. Though   
he wasn't sure who. Joey? Well, she'd probably cry a bit, maybe feel a little guilty. But she had   
Dawson. He would look after her. They'd all have forgotten him by next Christmas.   
  
He let his eyes slide over the interior of the car, wondering if there was anything he could use to slit his   
wrists. should he decide to do so. But he couldn't see anything and he didn't care enough to actually   
look. Better just to sit here and wait for the cold to numb his brain and stop him thinking about Her. He   
thought of the present in his coat pocket. The necklace. The single, beautiful stone at its centre. An   
emerald. Deep sea-green. He reached his hand into his pocket and felt it. Cold and hard and smooth.   
What was he supposed to do with it now? Give it to Doug? No. He would give it to her. He would give   
it to her tomorrow or sometime when he felt like he could function again. He had brought it for her and   
he would give it to her. No doubt he would promptly be upstaged by Dawson, but he meant for her to   
have it. It was meant for Joey. Joey Joey Joey.   
  
He looked at the illuminated clockface. It was five past midnight. Christmas Eve. Was he going to sit in   
this freezing car the whole of Christmas Eve? Probably. Probably Christmas day too. He was going to   
sit here until it stopped hurting, or until he died. One of the two.   
  
That voice inside of him told him to stop being so melodramatic. He ignored it again. A little bit of   
melodrama helped him. He could pretend he was in a film, or in some dumb American teen drama. He   
half expected a Sarah McLachlan soundtrack to kick in. But it didn't, because this was reality. Cold,   
miserable, pathetic reality.   
  
He should go home. His family would be worried. Well, no, they probably wouldn't. But his father   
would be worried about his car. He didn't care. He didn't care about anything. Joey didn't want him   
and he might as well be dead.   
  
Joey. Beautiful Joey. He tried to remember the moment he'd fallen in love with her but he couldn't. He   
couldn't imagine a time when he hadn't been in love with her, though he knew he hadn't always been.   
He couldn't comprehend that. How could he ever not love her? How could anyone. Love. He wished   
there were more words for it. Those four letters. They didn't do love justice. They didn't come close to   
describing what he felt for Joey. He wanted to say it a million time, but even then he knew it wouldn't   
be enough. "I love you I love you I love you……"   
  
  
I'll love you forever  
  
You are…and you are….  
  
(caramel)  
  
  
The streets were quiet now. The Christmas lights shone out into the darkness for no one's sake but their   
own. Pacey certainly didn't care. He sat in the darkness, the silence, completely alone. The drizzle   
lessened, and finally crept away to be replaced by softly falling snow once again. But Pacey didn't   
notice. He saw nothing but Joey. Endless visions of Joey. He felt himself slipping into sleep. But even   
sleep couldn't erase the hollow ache inside his chest. He couldn't escape it. He couldn't escape Joey,   
who didn't want him. He loved her so much that it hurt, and she didn't want him. He slept and dreamt   
of her. Endless senseless dreams where the only thing he understood was that he loved Joey and she   
didn't want him. Snow fell on the silent streets and covered the car, and Pacey lost himself in Joey. His   
love for her enveloped him, drowned him, wrapped around him. He breathed it. It consumed him.   
Clung to him. Sweet. Like caramel.   
  
THE END  
  



End file.
